WANDERLUST
by Infinite Finale
Summary: Wanderlust: A strong impulsion to wander or travel and to explore the world.  Chell drabble. Post Portal 2. Some AU


W A N D E R L U S T;

_(A/N: After starting a lovely roleplay with the wonderful Miss Ace of Fours, as well as reading her fanfiction "Wheatley's Second Chance", I've been inspired to write my own piece of Portal Fanfiction. Rated T for some mature themes. Drabblefic, slight AU and some morbid thoughts. Hope you all enjoy it!)_

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><p><strong>Wanderlust: <strong>A strong impulsion to wander or travel and to explore the world.

_Freedom,_

It was a word that rang like a gong in Chell's mind. Foreign and unnatural - the taste of which was like the sweetest of foods and the strangest of feeling. As the egg white lift of Apature Science opened and pushed her roughly into the day, she was assaulted with the sheering bright light of the sun and warmth that touched her pale skin and filled it with a dull yellow hue. Stunned at first, she stumbled awkwardly across the uneven dirt, observing her surroundings with dark brown eyes. Chell turned only when the lift seemed to spit another item out beside her – her battered and worn companion cube.

Then there was silence; or for what Chell thought for a moment was silence. There was no more passive-aggressive robot taunting her about lack of parents or her weight, there wasn't an English personality core chattering aimlessly in her ear and there were no more quiet squeaks of the word: "Hello?" "Are you still there?" Yet as Chell listened, slowly she could pick up the whoosh of the breeze over the wheat crop and hear the distant chirrup of birds. These small sounds – so simple to you and I – meant the world to this young woman.

For the first time in a very long time, Chell made a noise. Choking out what seemed to be a mix of a laugh and a cry; she picked up her companion cube and ran. She ran for a long as her battered legs could take her, and until all she could do was collapse into the crop and curl up against the warm earth. In this moment, Chell was happy. She thought she was free.

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><p>What was civilisation to this young woman? Chell wasn't sure. The constant testing had left her with a schedule that she could follow, despite its dangers, and the acceptance to her lack of voice meant that she did not feel the need to change her ways to fit into her "society". Not that it was much to begin with.<p>

When Chell was eventually found by a startled farmer, his reaction to her was exactly what one would expect. Hurriedly waking her from her slumber, he took her to his house and dialled the police. Chell, wrapped up in a blanket with a cup of hot coco, had not known how to even react when the man had found her. Like a baby deer she gazed up innocently at him, never answering his question for she found that he talked far too fast for her to comprehend anything and his constant up and down bi-polar actions had left her confused and rather worried. When the police had come, they treated her with concern and mild suspicion. They were far from any town or city and had no way of knowing what Chell was doing or how she even got out here.

Their names were Robert and Caroline. Chell found it ironic that someone who dedicated their life to helping people shared the name with the assistant to Cave Johnson who made GLaDOS. However, this woman looked nothing like the pictures of Caroline that Chell knew. (and if she did, what difference would it make?) She was of African American heritage; over six foot tall and with muscles that Chell was sure could not be human. But she regarded Chell with kindness, taking her hand and allowing her time to adjust and adapt. Robert, on the other hand, was irritable – reminding her of Wheatley when he had "the itch" – and paced back and forth hissing something about "a big crack on a case down on the west side," and bouncing ideas of just taking Chell to the hospital or the station. Still Chell did not say much. Her voice was horse from lack of speaking, and she had to cough a lot in order to make it heard. By the end of explaining, her throat felt like sandpaper had been shoved down it.

For it wasn't that Chell couldn't speak in Apature, she refused too. What was the point of reacting to a crazed robot AI when you knew they were going to kill you anyway? She never showed panic or fear or anger, and Chell believed that was what irked GLaDOS the most. It wasn't that the comments didn't hurt – who likes being called an orphan? – but Chell knew she had a job to do. And by all gods, she would complete it.

When they finally decided to take her to hospital, Chell sat in the back of the police car, unsure as to what to do about anything. Given her malnourished and pale condition, they thought it best that she rest and relax before telling any more of her story. Because of this, Chell was able to stare out the window at the blackening sky, counting the thousands of stars and making sure her line of sight avoided the moon. Any memories she had of before Apature were blurry – snatches of blotchy film that she was sure her own head had modified to make more magical. She remembered chasing butterflies and studying them and saving snails and lizards from mean boys on her street (after she kicked their butts, mind you.). This new world was nothing like her magical land. It was dark and dirty and full of pale fluorescent lights that reminded her too much of the testing rooms. It was always the same corse white light, something she remembered GLaDOS musing to herself during one test: "We modified the lighting to reduce the shadows. Obviously it didn't work on you. But some test subjects reported some… _headaches. _Oh well; back to testing!" Her hand curled up tightly – death gripping her poor seatbelt in the process. For those who did not know what Chell was thinking of, they would have thought her terrified.

Despite that, however, they branded her terrified anyway. And crazy; the report filed on her contained the phrase: "Delusional: believes in a place call _Apature Science, GLaDOS, turrets and personality cores. Quiet – does not respond to prompting." _If people thought that Chell was mad, what was the point in responding to them? They thought that Apature was a lie. They whispered in the halls that she had gone through some kind of tramatic event. Rape, torture, harmful experiments; these were all theories that were passed around the hospital and devoured like vultures to a rotting carcass. Chell would lie in bed for hours completely catatonic, lost in her own mind as she "connected the dots" with the chips in the ceiling. Often she wondered when she would be free again. Her wanderlust grew with each passing day and she was reminded of her imprisonment by the birds that passed by her window. How she longed to be like them, to be able to run with her compainion cube again without a care in the world. It seemed like things did not want to change. Or that someone didn't allow it.

But then this change came. Through the static of her hospital room's dilapidated television, reports began to swarm the media about a lab hidden underground. Such reports were mixed with wonder and horror – the idea that such a time capsule of science lay hidden beneath the earth and that to get to the science they had to pass a computer AI who was more than happy to unleash toxic gas and turrets on their asses. Chell remembered the first time she heard Apature mentioned. She had looked away from the ceiling then, and for the first time in days (or so it seemed) her arms moved under her body in order to pull herself into a sitting position. In awe she watched the images of men convulsing against the gas and blown to bits by the turrets. Each "hello" that reached her ears seemed almost homely. Perhaps she was mad.

"_How was Apature Science found, you say? Well there's a rumour going around that someone was under that place for decades. A test subject from Cave Johnson's time! While we haven't been able to get too much information on this girl, what reports we have suggest that she had been testing with GLaDOS for years, unaware of a way to escape the facility or with the means too. How scary is that?"_

One time she saw Robert's face on the screen too. Smugly he bragged about how he was the first to have met Chell and that he knew all about her story. She had rolled her eyes and flicked her stale bread at the television screen, landing square in the middle of his massive forehead. In her mind, that was the most amazing thing that had happened in weeks.

Since Chell was no longer "mad" and her malnourished condition had improved out of sight, she was discharged from hospital. She was recruited to a workshop to help with her social skills, deal with any onslaught of post traumatic stress and rehabilitation into the real world. None really seemed to help. Her speech therapist would only look at her in pity through coke bottle glasses as Chell would twirl her dark brown hair around her finger and gaze curiously at the room around her, and the constant hassling from the media and reporters would only send her into a panic. At one point Chell had ducked into a dark alleyway late at night, ignoring the danger from thieves and desperate homeless. Gripping the fabric of her pale orange shirt, (a colour that she had kept from Apature despite the warnings from her shrink) she tried to calm her hyperventilating and trembling self. She couldn't handle their constant questions and their poking and prodding. She wanted to lead a normal life and not be gawked at like a lion in a cage. Despite her ongoing determination and want to "never give up, ever", she found herself questioning such an ideal and wondering if leaving Apature was, in fact, the right idea.

It didn't help either that every day she was assaulted with images of her old "home". People had branded their attack on Apature the "War Against the AI", and, to Chell's horror, they were winning. Every day when she turned on the television in her tiny apartment, she was assaulted with images of guns and bombs against the white, and occasionally she thought she could see the shadows of P-Body and ATLAS fleeing in terror from such attacks. She didn't blame them, either. Apature had made robots have their own thoughts and their own feelings. People did not understand because they had never experienced it. And Chell… Chell wasn't sure if she was too weak to stand up for them or too terrified of the repercussions of doing so. In that light, she tried to ignore it. She told herself that GLaDOS was fucked up and that ATLAS and P-Body were smart enough to survive. Any personality core she knew was lost in space, and their records had not been found.

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><p>"<em>N-NO! My beautiful facility! You monsters; don't take my facility from meeeeee-"<em>

Chell had dropped the plate of food in her hand, having picked up a night shift at a local bar to get some cash. Her speaking and social skills had begun to improve, but she was still only used as a cook and a part time waitress for her awkwardness around other people. The scream that had entered her ears was horrifying, and Chell knew the source before she understood the story. It was GLaDOS, and what scared Chell the most was that her voice sounded completely and utterly terrified. It wasn't passive-aggressive; it wasn't sarcastic or even angry. It was hysterical. Ignoring the shouts from the fat, intoxicated men, Chell stared dumbstruck at the television with the caption under GLaDOS reading: _"Rouge AI dead – Apature riches can now be unlocked" _and watched the body of her arch nemesis be turned into trash. In her eyes, such sight was more horrifying then seeing a live person dissected. It was crude, it was horrible. It was murder.

GLaDOS had thrashed against her attackers, having her neurotoxin and turret lines cut. She tried to attack them as they launched bombs at her outer casting and tried to saw at her powerlines, but it was all to no avail. She was weak against them, and she knew it. Each shriek tore at Chell, until all the damage was done. With GLaDOS' last words a wave of electricity shone over her body, making her glow almost as bright at the sun. From there she fell limp, her amber light winking out. Around her all the men cheered.

"Ding-dong, the bitch is dead!" cheered one of the drunken patrons. Chell turned to him. He was a middle aged man with a belly far too big for the rest of his body and what seemed to be four double chins. He often harassed Chell when she was working, slapping her on the butt when she went past and asking her would she make a great fuck. All Chell could do was ignore him. She did have the means to take him down, but knew that not only was her job on the line, but she didn't want to make this hell on earth any worse than what it already was. But with his cheer, her blood seemed to boil. Why GLaDOS' death affected her so much, she did not know – only that she would not tolerate such slander against her. Perhaps it was that Caroline was a part of her, and Chell considered that to be who she was defending. Before the drunk could make another remark, Chell's tiny fist had impacted with his fat cheek and sent him toppling to the ground. No words were spoken; all Chell needed to do was spit at him and her thoughts were made clear. He spluttered at her like a fish out of water and the patrons around her stared in complete shock. Chell then turned, ripping the apron from her face and kicking off her awfully high black shoes as she left the bar. She made her demands clear. She was never going back.

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><p>It was found that thousands of test subjects lived below Apature. However, when GLaDOS died it wiped out a lot of the mainframe, damaging the vital systems keeping the test subjects alive, yet unconscious. By the time rescuers could reach them, they were all dead; prompting much outrage and an inquiry into finding out if the government knew the existence of such people. Chell was called into questioning, but her testimony was often ripped apart due to her silence and "mental scarring" from the events that happened at Apature. Doug Rattman was found not long after, but was declared too unstable for any kind of questioning or use in the case. He now resided in a nursing home for the mentally insane, chattering to anyone who would hear that the cake was a lie asking if they had seen his companion cube.<p>

Much had been done since GLaDOS' death. The turret systems were boxed up and examined and there were plans for them to be used in the immediate future if a war should erupt between nations. ATLAS and P-Body got the worst of any robot. They were now being forced against their will in more elaborate testing and plans were made to use them in what was otherwise suicidal missions both in space and war zones. Chell had to turn away every time she saw their scared faces on any screen. While she never knew them well personally, the short time before GLaDOS had expelled her they looked nothing but curious and innocent. This world, she feared, was corrupting them. As she feared it was slowly doing to her.

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><p>The final straw came one summer's day a few months later. In a heatwave that many said was the worst in fifty years, Chell was cooped up in her stuffy apartment with only her fan to keep her cool. Juggling a drink of lemonade in her hand, she sat rather lazily in front of her television. Since Apature, Chell had tried to keep herself as active as possible, but even this heat was enough to force her inside for fear of heatstroke or sunburn. Her skin was a lot darker than before and she looked ten times healthier – although her mental state was up for debate. As the weather report had ended, the reporters turned to a breaking story that had begun to delevop. What they said forced Chell to sit higher in her seat.<p>

"_So Apature is in the news again! It seems that the Starshuttle Byron has picked up four unidentified objects believed to be from that lab. How on earth they got into space we'll never know, but what NASA believes them to be a corrupted personality cores, of which many were found in the lab after the death of GLaDOS –"_

"Wheatley," Chell breathed the first word she had spoken in at least a week. She didn't know why she seemed so happy to hear some word of him in the news, but the feeling bubbled inside of her like soda water in a cup. Perhaps, despite everything, he was still her friend. Somewhere in Chell's mind, she was hopeful that Wheatley's episode was simply caused by some dodgy wire in GLaDOS' mainframe which caused him to go insane. The idea she could meet her blue eyed companion – that perhaps she'd have a friend – was the most exciting idea her mind could conjure. Chell sat her cup on the table and crossed the short space to the Television. Sitting right in front of it, she pressed her fingers to the millions of stars in space, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Then her blood went cold.

"_While NASA managed to recover three of the four spheres, one became crushed in the shuttle when they attempted to board it. So far they have not been able to recover any trace of what this core was used for." _And then they held up the lifeless body of Wheatley. His panels were broken, his wires hanging like intestines in a man for the world to see. His light, like GLaDOS', had been extinguished, and all was left was a husk of someone else that she used to know. No longer would she ever hear his English accent chatting away or insulting her. No longer would she lay awake and wonder what he was doing, yet feel stupid for worrying. He was gone too. Everyone she knew was gone.

"N-No… NO!" Chell shrieked. In her hysteria, she began to bang on the screen of the television, causing it to go to static and hiss at her like an abused snake. She snapped up at to her feet, tears flowing freely from her eyes as she stormed into her room. For the first time in a long time, Chell reached into her wardrobe and withdrew a large box from its depths. Breaking it open, she retrieved her long fall boots and shoved them roughly on her feet, giving them a quick flex as she bounded out of her apartment and down the stairs to her aging and molten hot car. She ripped the door open and flung herself in, ignoring the heat that blistered her skin.

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><p>She drove for hours, out past the city and into the wheat field she had first emerged from. Getting out of her car, Chell examined the land around her. Night was falling, and streaks of yellow had been painted across the sky like a lazy child's finger paint. Adjusting her long fall boots so they were comfortable, Chell broke into a run again.<p>

And she ran as free as a horse – as free as a bird. But this time no laughter exited her lips. There was no glee. Only a want to get back to the only place that seemed familiar to her and to people who, while crazy, she could relate too. To her delight the abandoned shack that she had come from was still around, sticking out of the wheat like a sore thumb. She pushed open the door, coughing momentarily as she found the lift.

Pausing for just a moment, Chell considered what she was doing. She had wanderlust so strong when she was here before, that the idea that she craved coming back seemed sickening. The voice in her head that lived through Apature was screaming at her. Despite that, however, she needed to go back. She was done.

She pressed the button labelled "MAIN CONTROL ROOM."

There were so many broken wires. Like branches of a rose bush, the jaggard spikes from their rough detatchment scraped Chell's skin and forced it to bleed. She worked well into the night, huddled under a blinking testing room light as she slowly connected each wire to its source. When they were all done, Chell held her creation out in front of her and waited. Her face was hopeful.

Then, suddenly, the light went on.

"Oh! Oh good, I'm back online. Wait… I'm a potato," The voice that echoed from Chell's creation was flat and unimpressed, the sound of which almost made the young woman laugh. Having taken a potato from her house and shoved it in her pocket, Chell had hoped that GlaDOS' wires were not so damaged that this transfer would not be possible. Or even that she would find her. Strangely enough, the people who had invaded Apature had left GLaDOS chamber well enough alone, as if fearful she would rise like a zombie and murder them all. This gave her perfect opportunity and time; she reserected her nemesis.

"What moron put me in a potato? I swear if it was that bumbling idiot of a personality sphere I will take great pleasure in revenge – oh good; my facial identifying is back online," GLaDOS' eye scanned Chell's face, squinting with her broken panels to try and make out her features. When she did, her voice went cold.

"Oh. It's just you. I thought that when I released you from my facility you'd leave me alone, you monster. Though I guess I have to thank you for putting me in a potato. I may look fat, but at least I'm nothing compared to you. Oh good – insults are back online, too. Now what do you want?"

Chell bit her lip, as if she was unsure of her actions; though GLaDOS waited as if expecting an answer from her, even though Chell had never said a word in her life. She didn't know if the AI was surprised when she decided to speak.

"I came back. I didn't mean for all of this," she admitted, looking away from GLaDOS to the ruined lab. It was in a worse state then Chell had ever seen it, but when she thought about it she wasn't surprised at all. For a long time neither of them said anything, and the young woman didn't know if it was GLaDOS' severs coming back online or she was just evaluating her words. Finally – mercifully – she responded.

"Well you should have thought about that when you came out, you monster." Then a tiny male voice whispered from her speakers:

"'Caroline' file is back online."

"How many times must I delete you?" GLaDOS said exasperated. This time Chell did laugh, al bet a little quieter than one would imagine. As she did so, GLaDOS glared coldly at her before her light narrowed due to her panels. She was thinking.

"Well… I assume you haven't brought me back to laugh. You were never good at anything that involved speaking. I always thought you must have been part ape. But they speak too. Maybe a silent ape," GLaDOS considered her sentence, ignoring Chell who rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

Chell thought it was rather obvious. Why would she bring GLaDOS back for any reason then to take Apature? Clearly she wasn't going to hang her on her mantelpiece as she brought her friends over announcing: "This is the bitch I killed. Her name is GLaDOS. Ignore her fat comments." She tilted her head.

"Revenge," she said matter-of-factly. GLaDOS seemed to shiver in delight at that notion (as much as a robot could, obviously.)

"Ooh, I do like a good amount of revenge. While I would love to inflict some on you, I think we have a common goal. We can both do a little bit of killing and then go back to testing. Oh yes; I love testing. Or maybe we can use them for testing!"

Chell gave another rolling of her eyes, but smiled good-naturedly. With the Caroline aspect back online, she doubted that much of GLaDOS' threats would be meaningful. She tucked the deadly AI under her arm and descended deeper into the facility, hoping to find a way to hook her in and get her job done.

"Whatever you say," she said simply, and returned to silence once more.


End file.
